


This Must Be The Time

by sunsetmog



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Amusement Parks, Coming Out, Contrived dating, Getting Together, Goats, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Meddling, the logistics of coming out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-13
Updated: 2014-07-13
Packaged: 2018-02-08 17:38:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1950153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetmog/pseuds/sunsetmog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick's never been the kind of boy to have a long-term boyfriend. There's always been other stuff that's been more interesting, stuff that's held his attention more than the boys in his bed. It's different with Louis.</p><p>Or: Louis and Nick come out: featuring flashbacks, goats, a determined Harry Styles and one very wet experience on the log flume.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Must Be The Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sophie_448](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophie_448/gifts).



> **Sophie_448** , you asked for a) coming out fic which dealt with the logistics and strategy of coming out, and b) Harry being the meddling best friend trying to matchmake Nick and Louis. You get both of those things, because both prompts were so great I couldn't pick between them. I hope you enjoy. <3
> 
> Thank you to my betas (you know who you are). Thank you to Alison for running this exchange.

_  
Now_. 

"Have you ever thought about, you know, coming out?" Nick asks. They're in bed, and Louis is sprawled over half the mattress, taking up three times more space than he needs. Nick rolls onto his side so he can mess with Louis' hair and Louis can make that grumpy face at him, just like normal. 

"What's brought this on?" Louis asks, bumping his toes into Nick's under the duvet as he bats Nick's hand away. He looks vaguely interested, rather than angry at the thought of coming out, which Nick takes as a good sign. 

"No idea," Nick says. "It was just me thinking out loud."

"I don't know," Louis says, after a minute. "It's not like I haven't thought about it. I quite like the idea of walking down the street with you."

Nick hadn't even realised that Louis had ever really considered it. They've been rattling along quite nicely for the last six months, seeing each other whenever they can, filling the rest of the time with phone calls when they can get their time zones to match up, and stupid texts when they can't. Nick calls Louis his boyfriend in his head, even though he never has in real life, and he's fairly sure that Louis does too. "Didn't even know you'd been thinking about it."

Louis shrugs, burrowing closer under the covers. "Tour's done, and I'm home," he says. "I'm bored of not doing stuff with you."

"Romance isn't dead, then."

"Shut up," Louis says. "I was going to rent this house for my mum and everyone, a holiday, kind of. I'd sort of like it if you were there too, that's all."

Nick doesn't know how to feel about that. He's never been the kind of boy to have a long-term boyfriend. There's always been other stuff that's been more interesting, stuff that's held his attention more than the boys in his bed. It's different with Louis. 

"Say something," Louis says. "I've just invited you on a family holiday."

"All right," Nick says. "Okay, I'll come."

_~*~_

_Then_.

"I think you and Louis should get it on," Harry says, drunkenly bumping into Nick's back. He tucks his hand into the curve of Nick's elbow. "Did you hear me? You and Louis."

"I heard," Nick says, finishing his drink and putting the glass down on the end of the bar. "I just assumed you were joking. Or mad. Or both."

"No," Harry says. "I think you'd be great together."

Nick rolls his eyes. "You've had too much to drink." Nick hasn't had enough, if this is the conversation they're having. 

"No," Harry maintains, sinking his teeth into Nick's shoulder, right through his shirt. "I'm right about this. Can I stay at yours tonight?"

"'Course," Nick says. "Come sleep at mine. Sleep it off."

"Don't need to sleep it off," Harry persists. "I've just been thinking about it. You and Louis."

"Louis hates me," Nick says. "Louis has a girlfriend. Louis is an annoying dickhead, and that's the watered down version because I know he's your best friend." Louis had called Nick a pretentious, smug, know-it-all hipster dickhead the last time they'd met. Nick has no plans for forgiveness any time soon. 

"Louis doesn't have a girlfriend," Harry says. "Not anymore." He puts his fingers to his lips. "Shush."

"Right, that's it," Nick says, for once relatively sober in the face of all his friends being drunk as skunks. If skunks get drunk; he's never really thought about that before. Being late to parties where everyone's had a zillion cocktails before he'd even got there is rubbish. "You're smashed. Come on. Home to beddy-byes."

"Fine," Harry says, as they head towards the exit. 

Nick stops to kiss about six people on the cheek whilst Harry tries to find his coat from the pile by their table. It takes Harry at least five minutes longer than it should have done, but Nick doesn't mind waiting. It gives him a chance to hug Sophie, who's just arriving, and arrange to go for a drink with Kate on Tuesday. 

"I texted him," Harry tells him, once they've said their goodbyes and are stumbling out of the bar. He shows Nick his phone. The glare of the photographers' flashes is blinding, so Nick just makes a grab for Harry's phone and then lets Harry fall into the taxi first, climbing in after him. The photographers will have a great shot of his arse. Whatever, his arse is looking pretty great at the moment. 

Harry's phone has the message screen open. There are three messages there:

_\- you should go out with nick_  
 _\- he's hot and you're perfect for each other_  
 _\- listen to yoda harry, lou. date nick_

A reply comes back from Louis as Nick's reading. 

_\- I'd rather dip my knob into a bucket of crabs Harold_

And then off the back of that one, another two: 

_\- that's probably what I would be doing, thinking about it_  
 _\- you must be wasted if you think we're perfect for each other_

Nick rolls his eyes. This is Harry's worst idea yet. 

~*~

If he texts Louis back from Harry's phone, _I do not have crabs Tomlinson_ , then no one need ever know. 

~*~

_Now._

"How'd you fancy the south of France?" Louis asks, a week or so later. He's on his laptop with his feet up on Nick's coffee table. 

"What for?" Nick wanders into the kitchen and comes back with a can of Diet Coke in one hand and Coke Zero in the other. He hands the Coke Zero to Louis. 

"Our holiday," Louis says. "Mum says she doesn't mind where we go, but she doesn't fancy long haul with the babies. That rules out the Caribbean."

"Barbados, or France," Nick says, pretending to think about it. "Hmmm."

Louis ignores him. "The other option is the Canaries, but the privacy laws work in our favour in France."

"France it is, then," Nick says, sitting down next to Louis on the sofa. Louis automatically shifts position so that his feet are over Nick's lap, and Nick can wrap a hand around Louis' ankle. Nick drinks some of his Diet Coke. "You do realise, don't you, that the chances of us managing a whole holiday without someone getting a picture of the two of us together is pretty slim, right? Even if the paps legally can't."

"Yes, I know," he says, still messing with his computer. It's another moment before he looks up. "Do you want to pull out?"

Nick strokes his thumb over Louis' ankle. "Is this you and me coming out?"

Louis looks at him then. "I'm bored of hiding," he says. "I'm sick of pretending I'm not in love."

 _In love_. "In love?" Nick asks, quite carefully, even though inside he's trembling. 

"Yeah," Louis says softly. "I'm in love."

"Right," Nick says. "Well, for the record, I am too. In love with you, I mean."

When Louis smiles, it's like the sun coming out from behind the clouds. 

It's the first time Nick's ever said _I love you_. To anyone.

"Suppose this means I'm your boyfriend, then," Nick says, and Louis kicks him. 

"You've been my boyfriend for months, you complete fucking idiot."

"Charmed," Nick says, and shuts the lid of Louis' laptop so he can lean in and kiss him. 

Louis laughs against his mouth and kisses him back. 

~*~

_Then._

"This is a terrible idea." Nick is making some kind of effort not to pout, but he's in Waitrose and on his phone, so at least Harry can't see him down the line. "This is the worst idea you've ever had."

"I need eggs as well," Harry says, as though Nick hadn't even said anything. "Better get another bottle of wine."

"We'll both need a bottle each to get through tonight, so yes," Nick says, bunging a box of twelve free range eggs into his basket, and topping them off with a punnet of grapes and one of cherries before he heads for the alcohol aisle. "Red or white?"

"It's steak, so make it red." 

"What do you need the eggs for, if we're having steak?" 

"Dessert, Nick. Can you get some garlic bread too? Louis loves it but I forgot to buy any."

"He would," Nick says. He's not entirely sure why he agreed to this dinner in the first place, since he's fairly convinced that Louis Tomlinson is the actual spawn of the devil, and even worse than that, dislikes Nick. Nick isn't very good at dealing with people who dislike him. It's a _thing_. He rather likes being liked. 

"Nicholas," Harry says. "You promised you'd try."

"Just so long as Louis tries too," Nick says. "I'll try just as long as he tries."

"You're both my best friends," Harry says, for approximately the eleven hundredth time. "Stop complaining and come to dinner."

"Fine," Nick says, and puts a third bottle of wine into the basket, for reasons. 

~*~

Louis has shown up with three bottles of wine too, so clearly the two of them have the same kind of idea about how this evening is going to go. 

"Excellent," Harry says, taking the clanking bags off them both. "We'll all get drunk. Brilliant."

"You're terrible," Louis says, without looking at Nick. He hasn't looked at Nick once since they both showed up at Harry's door, coincidentally within thirty seconds of each other. Nick is used to being the latest person to anything; he's sort of annoyed Louis has stolen his thunder. "So, you, uh, want a hand in the kitchen?"

"Nope," Harry says, beaming. "Everything's under control. The two of you should go and sit in the living room and I'll bring you some wine."

Nick is seriously never, ever speaking to Harry again. This is the worst kind of contrived date he's ever been on, and it's with Louis fucking Tomlinson. Louis looks equally mutinous, which is a positive in Louis' column, but when Nick sees the living room he actually wants to cause Harry actual bodily harm. 

"Harold," Nick yells. "Someone's nicked all your chairs."

"It's Feng Shui," Harry calls back from the kitchen. "Sit on a cushion."

"It's not bloody Feng Shui," Nick grumbles, sitting down on one of the large cushions in the centre of the living room. "It's fucking bloody mindedness. I'm not being funny, Louis, but I'm not going to shag you even if he has hidden the sofas."

Louis looks a queer mix of offended and disapproving. "The offer was never on the table, Grimshaw." He plonks himself down on one of the cushions. The room is empty apart from a large cabinet in one corner of the room where Harry's TV used to be, and three large cushions in the middle of the room. There's a small circular table to one side. "Has he really hidden the sofas?"

"I've got no idea," Nick says. "I wouldn't put it past him."

"Well," Louis says, getting his phone out. "This is fun."

Nick gets his phone out too. "Isn't it just," he says, and scrolls to Twitter.

Harry comes in with two glasses of red wine. He puts them down on the little table, plucks Louis' phone out of his hand, and then Nick's. "Phone-free zone tonight, lads," he says, and disappears back out of the living room. 

"I'm going to kill him," Louis says. "I'm going to actually kill him."

"Not if I see him first," Nick says, reaching for his wine. "I'm going to kill him harder."

"Let's just get shitfaced and see how much of this terrible evening we can completely forget," Louis says, and that's a plan Nick can get behind. 

"Chin chin," Nick says, and downs half of his glass in one. 

~*~

Harry spends half of the evening in the kitchen making meringues. Meringues which—coincidentally—Nick and Louis never actually see, because someone had seen fit to let Harry a) see a recipe for meringues that involved browning the tops of them with a blowtorch, and b) have a blowtorch, when even the stupidest person in the world could have foreseen _that_ going wrong. 

"It's not a bad burn," Harry keeps saying, whilst Nick runs a flannel under the cold tap and Louis tries to call his mum for nursing advice. "You two should go back and finish your meals."

"Shut up," Nick says, since all of that wine he's drunk isn't exactly helping matters, but it's amazing how sobered up he suddenly feels now that Harry has a burn the size of Antarctica all down his hand and wrist. "Do we need to take him to hospital?"

Louis looks equally sobered up. "Mum thinks we might," he says, still holding his phone. 

"I'm fine," Harry says. "I'm totally fine. You two go back to talking."

"We were arguing over peanut butter, Harry," Louis says, rolling his eyes. "He's even wrong about that."

"Crunchy all the way," Nick says, holding the cold flannel to Harry's burnt hand. "Anything else is the devil's food."

"Mum says we need to take him to Casualty," Louis says. "I'm going to call Paul."

~*~

Nick suspects that spending four and a half hours in Casualty on a Friday night isn't exactly how Harry planned on the evening ending, but as neither Nick nor Louis can go with him in case the newspapers find out, the two of them end up waiting for him back at Harry's house anyway. They spend the first forty minutes swapping stories of Harry nearly blowing himself up, then the next half hour trying to find the missing sofas, and the next hour and a half reorganising all the furniture in Harry's bedroom. 

"He deserves this for being a giant knobhead," Louis says, when they're in the middle of swapping all of Harry's clothes from the drawers to the hanging rails. They're rolling up all of his shirts and putting them in the drawers, and putting all of his underpants on hangers. "Thinking the two of us would be good together, what the fuck."

"What the fuck indeed," Nick agrees, knotting all of Harry's socks together like one giant knotted rope. He hasn't done anything like this in years. It's quite delightful. "Do you want to open that other bottle of wine?"

"Do I ever," Louis says, and they end up passing out on the cushions in Harry's living room, Louis' feet in Nick's face. 

~*~

_Now._

"This, um, coming out thing," Nick says, coming home from work and sitting down on the sofa next to Louis. It's been on his mind the whole morning. "Do you think we need to talk about it?"

Louis makes a face. "Yes," he says. "Probably."

Nick leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth. "How do you think your label's going to take it?"

Louis shrugs. "Dunno," he says. "Can't be the worst thing in the world, though, Every band's got a gay one."

"What do you want to do?" Nick asks. "I mean. I've got no idea. I've never come out properly before. I just assumed everyone knew and then said that thing in the newspaper."

"Think it might be different for me." Louis tucks his fingers into Nick's, which he never does, so Nick suspects he's not as calm about all of this as he's pretending. "Think I should talk to the boys, and then talk to someone about arranging a meeting with the label and Modest. I don't know."

Nick squeezes his hand. "Do you think they're going to talk you out of it? Not the lads. Everyone else."

He shrugs again. "Dunno," he says. "Maybe. Probably. I mean, it's less work if I'm not out. Like, it's easier. Suppose it's in their best interests to avoid headlines that aren't about the band, I mean, that's what they've always said. But I don't think they're going to come out and say a big fat no. That'd be stupid. They might try to make me put it off, I suppose."

"And would you?"

Louis leans in and nudges his nose against Nick's. "No," he says, going a little cross-eyed as he tries to focus on Nick from so close. He kisses him. "I'd just tweet that I loved you and get you to retweet it or something. Even if they deleted it, it'd still be out there. But, I mean, in reality that's what they're being paid for. Creating our image and maintaining it. I just want to be the one who's in a relationship with a guy now, that's all."

The nerves in Nick's stomach are loud and proud and terribly mixed up. He can't let any of them show; it wouldn't be fair. "Do you want me to come with you? To your meeting?"

"Dunno," Louis says. "Come with me to meet the lads, see what they say first."

Nick nods. He can do that. That's easy. 

~*~

They meet the rest of Louis' band at Niall's place, four days later. They all know about him and Louis, have done since the beginning, since Harry roped them in to help get them together. That aside, they haven't spent that much time together since, though, most of Louis' downtime focusing on the two of them together, and not hanging out in larger groups. 

Niall has just lit the barbecue when Nick and Louis arrive—gracefully late, as is their wont—and the others are all there already, Zayn poking bits of chicken and vegetables onto skewers as Niall puts charcoal on the grill. There's beer chilling in the mini fridge, and Louis gets them both a Corona as Nick sits down on the bench next to Harry. 

There's music playing, and the grill going, and it's nice and easy and relaxed. Zayn's talking about his wedding plans, and Harry tries to juggle, and it isn't until they've finished eating and Niall's brought out the ice cream that Louis catches Nick's eye. 

Nick nods, and Louis edges a little closer and laces his fingers with Nick's. They're so rarely together like this, in public, even with friends. Nick can probably count the occasions on one hand they've been able to be like this, so he sees the others all notice. 

He can't imagine what it will be like to be able to do this whenever and wherever they choose. It seems like a dream. 

"I want to come out," Louis says. His palm's sweating. Nick squeezes his hand. "And I— _we_ —wanted to see what you'd think about that. You know. If I did that."

Niall leans right over and claps Louis on the shoulder. "Good on you, mate. Brilliant."

Louis' shoulders relax a little bit. He glances at Nick again. Nick winks and Louis smiles at him. 

"I always knew I was right about you two," Harry says. 

"We know, we know, you're the all-seeing Harry Styles." Nick rolls his eyes. "Don't think we don't know we've got you to blame for all of this."

Harry just smiles sunnily at him. "You love me," he says. They do. It's all right. "I think it's great, by the way."

"Me too," Zayn says. He looks a bit awkward. "Have you talked to the label?"

"No, not yet. Wanted to talk to you guys first. Make sure you were all okay with it. About, you know, what impact it might have. On us. The band."

Zayn bumps his elbow into Louis'. "We don't need the kinds of fans that won't be supportive," he says. "We've got enough of the good kind."

"But what if there are a lot of them?" Louis asks, and Nick knows he's voicing the fears he won't ever tell Nick about. "What if this is the beginning of the end? What if people stop coming to our concerts?"

Liam makes a face. "Then we play smaller venues. We have less fans." He looks fierce. "This is what we're _for_ , isn't it? Being role models. That's what they're always saying, isn't it? Who we are is important. And this is important. Who you are is important, Lou."

"God," Louis says. 

"All those fans with feelings they don't know what to do with," Liam goes on, still fierce. Nick loves this side of Liam, this _do the right thing_ side that comes out at the oddest times. "You can be a role model for them, now. Openly."

Louis nods. "Right," he says, letting out a ragged breath. "God, part of me thought you'd tell me to stay in the closet."

"Never," Niall says. He sits himself down next to Nick on the bench. "You're one of us now, mate," he says, poking Nick in the leg. "You're stuck being a WAG. How'd you feel about that?"

"Name's a bit problematic," Nick says. "Think I'm a HAB. Doesn't quite have the same ring to it, does it?"

"HAB?" Harry looks confused. "Oh, right. I don't know. Think you can make it your own. Be a ringleader."

Nick laughs at that. "I'd rather just be a boyfriend," he says, and Louis squeezes his hand, glancing at him, cheeks pink. "If that's all right."

"Fine by us," Niall says. "Do you want us all there when you tell the label? And Modest?"

"I think so," Louis says. "I mean, it affects all of us, doesn't it? Me coming out. It changes everything."

"For the better," Harry says. "Look at us, changing the world."

Even Nick laughs at that, the six of them spluttering over Niall's barbecue as the sun beats down. "I'm going to get my PR company to come too," he says, once the laughter's died down. "Make it properly formal and everything."

"All right," Louis says. "So this is a thing, then."

"Yeah," Nick says. "It is."

~*~

_Then._

Harry's burn fades to a gentle mark on the inside of his wrist that looks a bit like a coiled snake. He's not above using it as emotional blackmail, coupling it with a terribly sad expression that has Nick capitulating and turning up at Harry's for two more awkward dinners that are essentially Nick and Louis in Harry's dining room with Harry darting in and out with condiments and pickles. 

The first evening, Nick gets to legitimately make his excuses and leave super early, because he's doing a phone-in to Huw's show and he pretends the stuff he needs is back at home, but the second evening there's nothing he can say to get himself out of a fake date with Louis Tomlinson. 

"How many condiments do you think he has in there?" Louis asks, after they've had an awkward starter of parma ham and mozzarella, and Harry's offered them everything from cranberry sauce to English mustard. 

"Maybe he's bought them specially," Nick says, since Harry hasn't even made a pretence at setting a third place at the table for himself. He can barely see Louis for the jars of beetroot and pickled onions. 

"This is getting weirder, right?" Louis asks. He's in a Vans t-shirt that's all stretched at one side, and black skinny jeans rolled up at the ankle. His hair's all sticking up. Nick is self-aware enough to realise that he's liked many a more stupidly dressed boy. 

Not that he likes Louis. It's just a case of familiarity breeding slightly less hatred than normal, that's all. "A little bit," Nick says. "Do you want a gherkin?"

Louis wrinkles his nose. "No," he says. "Why would you even—god, no. That's terrible. Take them away from me."

Nick's back to hating him. He loves a gherkin. 

"I'm thinking about getting a kitten," Harry calls from the kitchen. 

Nick blinks. "Harry—"

"You love animals don't you?" Harry asks, coming in with two plates of—well, Nick's not sure what they are. They're two cones with what looks like lasagne inside. He's not going to ask. "Louis loves animals, don't you?"

"Yes," Louis says, eyes narrowed. "What even is this?"

"Lasagne," Harry says. "Eat up. Garlic bread's on the way."

"This isn't lasagne," Louis hisses, when Harry's disappeared back into the kitchen. "It's basically an ice cream cone of bolognese."

Nick was definitely going to refuse to eat his, but he can't show weakness where Louis is concerned. "I think it looks lovely," he says, and resolutely breaks into his cone of bolognese sauce. 

It isn't terrible, but he's not going to tell Louis that. Louis is poking at it dubiously. He takes a big gulp of wine before he breaks into it. Nick tries not to laugh. 

"How is it?" Harry comes back in with a steaming tray of garlic bread bites. "Dig in."

"It's an ice cream cone of bolognese," Louis says. "You weirdo."

"Shut up," Harry says. "It tastes nice, so eat it. More wine? Do you want an olive? I've got some in the fridge."

This is the weirdest not-a-date in the history of forever.

~*~

Nick is woken up in the morning by Harry cheerfully ringing him six times in a row.

"Go the fuck away," Nick says, blearily managing to answer his phone. There had been a lot of wine last night, and an argument over Green Day that Nick is still quite bewildered about. He didn't realise he had an opinion. He remembers waving his wine glass a lot in Louis' face, and eating a lot of mandarin cheesecake. 

"Emergency," Harry says brightly. "I was supposed to be doing this magazine shoot thing for that charity I told you about last night, at this farm with Ed but his plane's delayed so I need someone to fill in."

There is so much in that sentence that makes no sense at all. "Go away," Nick says. "I'm hungover and dying."

"No, you're not," Harry says. "Come on, two hours getting photographed feeding chickens, then I'll shout you lunch."

"Nrgh," Nick says and buries his face in his pillow. 

"Brilliant," Harry says, "I'll pick you up in half an hour. Put your Hunters on."

This is how things with Harry happen. Nick doesn't quite understand it. 

~*~

He definitely doesn't understand it when they get to the farm, somewhere in Kent, and Harry—who isn't wearing anything like Hunter wellies—asks to borrow Nick's phone, and then locks himself in his car, leaving Nick standing in the farmyard like a wally. 

"What the bloody hell—" Nick gets halfway through knocking awkwardly on Harry's car door when Louis bloody Tomlinson stomps out of the barn. 

" _You_ ," Louis says, waving his hand at Harry. Harry waves back from inside the car. "You call Liam _this instant_ and tell him to come back for me, and to bring me my bloody phone."

Harry opens the window a crack, and then another car pulls up behind Harry in the farmyard. It's Liam and his stupid Porsche. He waves at them both. Nick raises a confused hand in greeting.

"This is a conspiracy," Louis says loudly. "One I will get you back for."

"What's going on?" Nick asks. 

"I'm leaving the band," Louis says. "I'm _leaving_ , because my best friends are all nutcases, and I'm never speaking to any of them again."

"Harry—" Nick says. "Is there a photoshoot? Is Ed even supposed to be here?"

"Nope," Harry says through the cracked window. "We've arranged for you to have a day on the farm together."

Liam rolls down his window. "We'll come back and pick you up at five," he says. "They're laying on lunch for you both. Be nice."

"Give me my phone back," Nick says, and he's aware he sounds like he's pleading. 

"We'll come back at five," Harry says. "You can have your phones back then."

There's an awkward silence in the farmyard once Liam and Harry have reversed back out into the lane. 

"So," Nick says. 

"There are rabbits," Louis says mutinously. "In the barn. I was feeding them."

"Right," Nick says. "All right."

The farmers are Lola and David, and god knows what Harry and Liam had engineered, but there's a schedule to Nick and Louis' day that Nick hadn't anticipated. They feed the rabbits for the first half hour, and Nick wasn't exactly a rabbit person before, but there are tiny dwarf lop-eared rabbits in the back of the barn, and he gets to hold one in the crook of his elbow whilst Louis tries to tempt it with a bit of carrot. One of them poos on Louis after that, and Nick isn't sure which of them looks more betrayed: Louis, or the rabbit when he is ceremoniously dispatched back into his run. 

"Nice look," Nick says. 

"Shut up, Nicholas," Louis says. He wrinkles his nose to push his glasses up his nose, and any resemblance to one of the tiny rabbits they've just been holding Nick has to assume is just coincidental. 

After the rabbits, they go to see the baby cows. One of the calves has been rejected by its mum and needs to be bottle fed. 

Nick wishes he had his phone with him, if just for the camera, because Louis gets to bottle feed the tiny calf, and the look on his face when the calf starts to suckle is kind of endearingly charming. 

Luckily there's no one around to record the expression on Nick's face, either. 

They feed the chickens after that, and one of them pecks Louis in the thigh. Neither of them had noticed the chicken hiding on top of one of the feed bins, exactly at thigh height, and Nick is ashamed that Louis' yelp of pain is echoed by his own, except his yelp is surprise, and surprise only. 

"We've done you a full Ploughman's for lunch," Lola says, after they've finished feeding the chickens. Nick still can't figure out what on earth he and Louis are supposed to be doing down on the farm, but it's hungry work, looking at baby animals, so he's enthusiastic enough at the idea of food. Luckily Louis is too, so they end up sitting in what looks like it's going to be a tea room, all by themselves, giant plates of food in front of them. 

"So this is weird," Nick says, as Louis cuts into a giant piece of ham. 

"I hate everyone and everything," Louis says, reaching for the piccalilli. He smears a giant knife-full across his ham, and waves the jar in Nick's direction. Nick shakes his head. He doesn't eat things that are neon. "Except for the rabbits, the rabbits were pretty cute."

Nick spoons out four pickled onions onto the side of his plate. "What are we even doing here?" 

"Well, apparently," Louis says conspiratorially, leaning in, "our friends are total bell-ends."

"Well, apart from that." Nick had sort of thought that went without saying. 

"It's Harry's mum's cousin's friend's farm," Louis says. "Lola was telling me before you showed up. They're going to open it as a petting farm or something in the summer. We're the trial run. Harry pulled in a favour."

"Hmm," Nick says. This food is amazing. He's even tempted to try the piccalilli even though he maintains that it's the food of the devil. "But, like—" He stops. "All right. But they keep pushing us together."

Louis goes a bit red at that. It's sort of cute. Nick puts some piccalilli on his plate as a punishment for even thinking it. "I don't know, all right. I don't fancy you."

"I don't fancy you either," Nick says. 

"As long as we've got that sorted," Louis says, and concentrates on his plate for the remainder of their meal. 

Nick feels sort of odd about that. He eats his food—even the piccalilli—and has two cups of strong tea before tucking into a slice of cherry and sultana cake. Louis picks the cherries out of his, and Nick rolls his eyes, leaning over and stealing them off his plate. 

"Weirdo," Louis says. 

"You're the one picking the cherries out. They're the best bit."

"They are not. I hate dried ones. Urgh."

After lunch, David takes them down to see the goats. They have bags of feed for the baby goats, and it all goes well at first. Nick puts some feed in the flat of his hand, and so does Louis, and the goats lick it up off their palms. 

"This feels really weird," Nick says, but Louis just laughs at him. 

"It tickles," Louis agrees. He goes for a second handful from his paper bag, and crouches down to get a better angle for the tiny baby goat to feed from. He doesn't notice the larger goat coming over, and by the time it's close enough to take a mouthful of the hair directly from Louis' head, it's too late for Nick to do anything but yelp in sympathy as Louis sits down in the mud, his hand to his head. 

"Oh my god," Nick says, because he's just watched a goat eat Louis Tomlinson's hair. 

"Holy shit," Louis says. "Did that—my hair. Fuck, my hair."

"God," Nick says, trying to bat the goats away. He's laughing, and he can't help himself. "Are you okay?"

"That goat just ate my hair," Louis says. "Am I bald? God, what just happened?"

"Let me—" Nick crouches down by Louis' side. "Move your hand, let me see."

"That goat just ate my hair," Louis says again. "Do something."

"I'm looking, hang on." Nick pokes at Louis' hair, running his fingers through it, trying to see if there's a bald patch. "I think you're all right. He can't have eaten much."

"Christ," Louis says, and he glances up at Nick then, cheeks flushed, and there's the oddest, queerest feeling in Nick's stomach. Nick swallows, his hand still touching Louis' temple. He brushes his hair away from his face with his thumb. "Nick—"

"I don't fancy you," Nick says, "so don't hold this against me, but—" He tilts Louis' chin up, just a little, and brushes his mouth against Louis'. 

Louis kisses him back. "I don't fancy you, either," he says, and Nick cups Louis' face in his hands and strokes his thumbs over Louis' cheeks. David will be back in a minute, and they can tell him that his goat ate Louis' hair. Nick takes the opportunity to press his mouth to Louis' again. He has no idea what he's doing. 

"Christ," Louis says again, and Nick pulls back at that, standing back up and looking away, towards the goats and the barn, and David, walking back towards them.

Nick's lips tingle. "Got yourself a wild one here," he says, loud enough for David to hear. "Made a meal of Louis' hair."

~*~

When Harry shows up to drive them both home, he has to come find them in the barn again, because Nick's not an idiot. He's not going to leave without getting to hold another tiny rabbit, and there's enough space in the barn that he can be at one end of it and Louis can be at the other, and they can both be holding a rabbit and pretending that they hadn't just kissed. 

"So," Harry says, jiggling his car keys. "Have the two of you had fun?"

"A goat ate my hair," Louis says, stomping over, still holding his rabbit. "This rabbit's called Snuffles and it hates you."

"Right," Harry says. 

"This one's called Brian," Nick says. "It probably hates you too, but it's more interested in carrots."

"Right," Harry says again. "So, uh—"

"A goat ate my hair," Louis says again, bundling the rabbit into Harry's arms. "Where's my phone?"

"Back pocket," Harry says, and Louis reaches into his pocket to come out with two iPhones. He keeps his and passes the other one to Nick. Neither of them are quite meeting each other's eyes. 

Louis steadfastly concentrates on unlocking his phone and taking about six pictures in a row of Snuffles. 

"Take one of Brian," Harry suggests, and Louis kicks him in the ankle. 

"Stop trying to fix us up, before we really do start hating you," he says, but he takes a picture of Brian anyway. 

Harry just looks sad. Nick pets his rabbit. 

"Come on, then," Harry says, sadly. "I'll just go and say thanks to David and Lola."

Nick and Louis are left standing in the barn, both holding on to rabbits and looking awkward. 

"So," Nick says. 

"Right," Louis says. "If I text you when Harry's not looking, are you going to text back?"

"All right," Nick says, and if he blushes, Louis isn't looking at him, so it doesn't matter anyway. 

~*~

_Now._

The meeting with Louis' management company and his record label and Nick's PR company and Nick and the band lasts four hours. By the time the last half an hour rolls around, Nick is about ready to stab himself in the eye with a used coffee stirrer, and the meeting is _going their way_. It's actually going surprisingly their way, to the extent that Louis' grip on Nick's hand had lessened to something resembling actively painful instead of death-grip agony after the first half hour. 

There had been a short portion of the meeting where they'd been presented with the benefits to Louis not coming out, and the two of them staying in the closet for a bit longer, but they'd both resolutely shaken their heads at that. One of the things that Nick's appreciated about the meeting in general is that the nine people round the table that aren't Louis and his band could obviously see that they were banging their heads against brick walls trying to make them pick any avenue that wasn't Louis coming out. 

They'd talked all the options out. Talking to a newspaper, releasing their own video, giving an interview, showing up on a red carpet together, pictures posted to their own Twitters... the list had gone on. Then they'd talked about the benefits and the downsides to each of the options. When they'd got to the part where Nick's PR company had started talking about the cost-benefit analysis, Nick had zoned out. 

Afterwards, when Louis and Nick have a sheaf of papers to go through and options to pick, Nick contemplates shutting his head in a door just because he can. 

"You want to come back to mine and talk it out?" Harry asks, when they're all waiting by the lifts to go down to the car park, and Louis is kicking Liam repeatedly in the shin. 

Louis glances at Nick. "Nah," he says. "We need to talk about this stuff first, before we make a decision. Just me and Nick." 

There are two main options; there's the one where they come out together, as a couple, and deal with Louis' sexuality in the wake of that, or there's the one where Louis comes out by himself, without naming his boyfriend, and they deal with his sexuality first and the relationship second. Nick doesn't particularly relish the idea of Louis going through any of this alone, but he rather suspects most of the others prefer that option. 

Talking is probably best, although four hours of talking is enough for anyone to have to deal with, without unpicking their relationship in the privacy of Louis' house. 

Nick bumps his elbow into Zayn's. "Thanks, by the way," he says, and he means all of them, not just Zayn. "For sitting through that."

"Any time," Zayn says. "And we'll be there again when you've decided what you want to do."

They're good guys, Louis' band. 

~*~

"I don't want you to have to do any of this alone," Nick says, as Louis' picking toppings for their Dominos order, two hours later. It's the same argument that they've been having for an hour. "We're in this together, we should go through this together."

"I wouldn't be going through it without you," Louis says. "I'm ordering us both the hot dog crust, stop making that face, it's brilliant."

"You're so fucking weird," Nick says. "You'll eat, like three types of vegetables, but any amount of processed meat crap."

"Sausages make the world go round," Louis says. "Anyway, all I'm saying is, you get enough shit as it is. They'll make this about you and how predatory you are and how you turned me gay, you _know_ they will. It's not fucking fair."

"I can cope," Nick says. "It's not like I haven't before."

"But you don't _have_ to. Let me be the bisexual lad with a boyfriend for a bit. Let that be the news story."

"I don't want you to have to go through any of this alone."

"And I don't want you to have your name stomped through the mud, all right, so that's that."

"Fine," Nick says, folding his arms. 

"Don't get stroppy," Louis says.

"I'm not stroppy," Nick says. He is stroppy, and he knows it. He's spent too long talking about their private life today, and he's tired of it. 

"Just think," Louis says, reaching for Nick and covering his knee with his hand. "If we're out and together and everything, we can get that rabbit we've always talked about."

Nick makes a face. "Do they only give rabbits out to out gay guys, now?"

"Shut up. We'll be co-parents. We'll co-parent a rabbit."

Nick blinks a few times. "You're so weird."

"You love me," Louis says. He pushes his laptop out of the way and straddles Nick on the sofa. "Thanks for today, by the way. For whatever we choose. For doing all of this. Thanks."

"Any time," Nick says. "Do you think we've got enough time for me to blow you before the pizzas arrive?"

Louis laughs, and tugs at Nick's t-shirt. "I reckon we do," he says. 

"Good," Nick says. He nudges Louis up and onto his feet. "Let me take you to bed, boyfriend, and show you a good time."

"Proper, out boyfriend soon," Louis says, tugging Nick into a kiss. "Everyone's going to know."

Nick's fairly sure he should be running away and hiding from the idea of so much commitment, but he can't bring himself to feel anything other than a glorious sense of excitement at finally, _finally_ getting to show Louis off to the world as _his._

"Come on, babe," Louis says. "We've got time for a shag if we get a move on."

"Sexy," Nick says, but he lets himself be dragged down the hall and up the stairs to Louis' bedroom. 

~*~

_Then._

Louis shows up at Nick's flat under cover of darkness, brandishing a DVD copy of _The Christmas Bunny_ , a bottle of red wine, and a packet of chilled garlic bread slices from Sainsbury's. 

"Hello," Nick says, opening the door wide. 

"Hello." Louis steps inside. "So this is weird, right?"

"I don't know," Nick says, making sure the door's closed after them both. "There aren't any goats here, so we've been on weirder dates."

Louis wrinkles his nose. "What's for dinner?"

"Spaghetti bolognese," Nick says. "If that's all right."

"Course it's all right," Louis says, following Nick into the kitchen. "You're not going to serve it in a lasagne cone or anything, right?"

"Nope," Nick says. It's been almost a week of texting since their day out at the farm. It's been unusual the whole way through, what with the slightly bewildering memory of their shared kiss out by the goats last Saturday. Nick doesn't really know how texting has led to this, this odd sort of secret date with food and wine and no Harry barrelling in wielding anything pickled. 

Louis leans over the stove and pokes at the spaghetti bolognese with the end of the spoon. "Is that bacon?"

"Yep," Nick says. "Everything's better with bacon."

Louis has never looked at him like that before. It makes Nick feel warm inside. "Have you been hiding this side away from me all this time?" he asks. 

"My love for bacon is pure and true," Nick says, which is only partly a lie. He bumps the back of his hand against Louis'. "We're only waiting for the spaghetti." He's just put it on, it will only be another nine minutes or so. "We should open the wine."

"We should," Louis agrees, and he pulls open a couple of drawers, presumably in search of a bottle opener. He comes back brandishing one, and then makes heavy weather of getting the cork out. Nick watches with something akin to affection, and an odd sort of realisation that Harry was right; he _does_ enjoy spending time with Louis, and Louis _is_ the kind of person that Nick could feel something for. In fact, he rather thinks he _does_. He's certainly thought about their brief shared kisses, on average, about twenty times a day since last weekend. 

He doesn't say anything, just pours them both a glass and leads Louis out to the sun room at the back of his flat. It's dark outside so the curtains are drawn, but he's set the table to make it look nice anyway. He half expects a sarcastic comment from Louis about the flat, but one doesn't come. Louis just peeks out between the curtains instead, trying to see out into the little back yard. Nick loves that back yard. He loves this entire flat, if he's honest, loves everything about it, up to and including the bathroom wall and all its failings. 

"Have you got grass or what out there?" Louis asks. 

"Or what," Nick says. "It's a bit too small for grass. It's a patio, really. Good in summer."

"It's nice," Louis says, although he can't honestly have seen much with the glare from the lights inside. "The whole place is nice."

"Thanks," Nick says. "I'll give you the full tour later on if you'd like."

Louis puts his glass down on the table. "Bedroom included?" he asks, and his cheeks are flushed. 

_Christ_. "Bedroom included," Nick says, and he can feel the answering flush on his cheeks as well. 

~*~

They don't get much further than the living room after they've eaten. Nick's too full to move, for a start, and after they've forced down a couple of tiny Gü chocolate pots, it's as much as Nick can do to drag them in the direction of the sofa, and the telly, and make sure there's coffee for them both. 

"Spag bol was nice," Louis says, taking over the TV and putting a DVD in the machine. He throws the box in Nick's direction. "Thought this was apt."

It's _The Christmas Bunny_. Nick doesn't know what to say, so he makes what he hopes is an enthusiastic humming noise and pretends to read the blurb. 

"Everybody needs some bunny to love," Louis says, fumbling with the remote. It's one of the worst taglines Nick's heard. 

"Right," Nick says, because there is literally nothing he can say that isn't, _everything I thought I knew about you was wrong_ , and _you're so weird_. 

"Looking forward to it?" Louis asks, sitting down on the sofa next to Nick. His knee bumps into Nick's, which Nick quite likes, but he can't quite reconcile that with _The Christmas Bunny_. 

"Who doesn't like a family tale about the magic of Christmas and a healing bunny lady?" Nick asks, trying not to sound as if he'd rather run for the hills. 

"Exactly," Louis says, in satisfaction. 

When the DVD menu for _Die Hard_ rather than _The Christmas Bunny_ starts playing, Louis keeps staring at the screen. He doesn't for a moment turn his attention towards Nick, although his mouth twitches. 

"You _menace_ ," Nick says, as Louis presses play. "I seriously thought you were going to make me sit through an entire film about a _rabbit_."

Louis snorts. "Gotcha," he says, and Nick can't help it. He reaches for Louis, catching at his chin with the crook of his finger, and stroking his hand into Louis' hair. 

"You menace," Nick says again, softer this time, and when Louis kisses him, it's to the opening scenes from _Die Hard_ playing in the background. 

~*~

 _Now_.

Nick has had to play the advert for Scott's interview with One Direction about eight million times by nine AM on Thursday morning, and it's not going live until three PM on Friday. Each day it's been worse, and each morning he's been fairly convinced he's not going to get through the week intact. The interview had been recorded on Monday, and there's an air of mystery about the tapes that has the whole building whispering. Normally there's someone who's heard it, and the content is fairly well known by the day or so after the recording, but the whole interview is in lockdown, and that's got everyone talking. Nick's had to field about eleven million questions from people assuming that he knows what's going on with Harry, and he doesn't know what's worse: nobody knowing about him and Louis, or people mistakenly thinking he's getting it on with Harry. 

Louis sends him a text message five minutes before the end of the show. 

_Shitting myself. Come home soon._

Nick's just as nervous as Louis is. He sends him one back as soon as the link's done; _love you. Be home soon xx_

Today's the day. 

~*~

They record the video in Louis' living room that afternoon. They want it to be as authentic as possible, so they use the camera on his Macbook, and set it up so that it's positioned to show as much of Louis' stuff in the background as possible. 

Anna from Modest is there, as well as Stephanie and Phil from the label, and Nick's careful to stay out of the way. All of Louis' band is here, in fact, but Louis is nervous enough without having everyone he loves hovering around. Nick kisses the top of his head and squeezes his hand. 

"You'll do great, babe," he says. 

"Stay," Louis says. "You won't be on camera. I just—stay, okay? Stay."

Nick nods. "Love you," he whispers, pressing his mouth to Louis' ear before he goes to stand in the corner with Stephanie, who is the least intimidating of Louis' management and label team. She's still intimidating as fuck, but at least he's seen her laugh. Nick's mostly convinced Anna's never laughed at anything in her life. 

"Okay," Phil says. "You know what you've got to say?"

"I know," Louis says, and he draws one knee up to his chest, messing with his hair in the Macbook screen. He takes a deep breath, and presses record. "Hi, guys," he starts, and he waves at the screen. "So, I know that some of you will know, because we've been promoting it on the One Direction Twitter account, and all week on Radio 1, but tomorrow Radio 1 is going to be airing an interview that me and the band did with Scott Mills earlier in the week. 

"So before that airs, I wanted to give you all a heads up about one of the questions we get asked in the interview. And I wanted to be the one that got to talk to you about it, because the information is mine, and I'm the one who wants to share it. Because I'm ready to, now, and I hope you'll understand why I haven't told you all before today. 

"The question that we get asked is, _who in the band is seeing someone?_ And we get asked that question a lot, and I know you all know that usually the only people that answer yes are Liam and Zayn. Well, I answered yes too. Because I've been seeing someone for a while now, and it's serious, and I wanted to tell you about it, because—because—" He falters, and Nick twitches, wanting to go to him, but Stephanie stops him with a hand to his wrist. "Because the person I've been seeing is a guy." Louis' gaze flits, momentarily, to Nick beyond the camera. "I'm with a man, which means that I'm not straight. I'm bisexual. I'm really very, very much in love—"

Nick makes a soft, strangled noise in his throat, and Stephanie's hand tightens on his wrist. 

"—and I'm very, very happy with him. I know a lot of you will have questions about who he is, and how long we've been going out, and all of that, but this is me coming out to you, and this is what I want to focus on. We're still the exact same band we've been all these years, and all of the lads know that I'm bisexual, and all I can hope for is that you'll still be a fan of us even though you know now that I'm not straight. Because I'm a better person for being in this relationship, and he makes me a better person, and, well—" Louis stumbles over his words. He's done well to get this far in his speech without faltering too much. "So when you hear the interview tomorrow, I hope you won't be too surprised by my answer, when I say I've got a boyfriend. And that's all I want to say, so, thanks for listening. I wouldn't be where I am today without the support of our fans, and we all love everything you've done for us, so thank you. Thank you, and bye."

He leans in and presses a button, and then lets out a desperate, ragged breath. Nick tugs his hand free from Stephanie's grip and waits whilst Louis stumbles to his feet and into Nick's arms. 

"I did it," Louis says, and Nick wraps him up into a hug. 

"You did, love," he says. "You really did."

Phil and Stephanie and Anna aren't entirely happy with the video, but Louis refuses to record another version. He didn't have a script to work from, but he had a bullet pointed list of things to go through, and he'd mostly hit all of them. Nick knows Louis wouldn't be able to manage to sound so natural a second time through. 

They watch it through together, all of Louis' band, and Nick, and Louis holds Nick's hand tightly the whole time. The video is being uploaded to YouTube as they speak, and after it's finally finished, they all have to leave so that Louis is alone in his flat, and none of the paps that are likely to show up later will have any material for the front covers that isn't Louis' YouTube video. 

When they've all left, and Nick's left Louis behind—alone—Louis tweets the link to his followers on Twitter. 

And that, as they say, is that. 

~*~

 _Then_. 

The first time Nick sees Louis' place, it's half past eleven on a Thursday morning and he's come straight from work, driving over with Louis' address plugged into the Sat Nav. 

Louis answers the door still half-asleep, dressed in too-long red-checked pyjama bottoms and a navy blue v-neck t-shirt that's faded and pulled at the hem. 

"Forget I was coming or something?" Nick asks. 

"I was building up my strength," Louis says sleepily, pushing the door closed behind Nick. He goes up on his toes to press a half-asleep kiss to the corner of Nick's mouth. "Hi."

"Hi," Nick says, and his hands go almost automatically to Louis' hips. He likes how easy it is to touch him, how easy it is to slide his hands down over Louis' hips to his bum. "It's probably too much to ask if you listened to the show."

"Managed a bit of it," Louis says, yawning. He goes up on his tiptoes to fuck with Nick's quiff. "Got up specially and everything. Then I fell asleep."

"Nice," Nick says. 

"Shut up," Louis says. "Take me to bed."

"Haven't you just come from there?" Nick asks, but his dick is starting to perk up. 

"Keeping it warm for you," Louis says, still sleepy. 

"You're just going to peg out halfway through," Nick says, which appears to be a genuine worry considering that Louis does appear to still be mostly asleep. 

"Nope," Louis says, taking Nick's hand and pulling him towards the stairs. "I'm definitely going to be awake for this."

It's been almost a week since their first secret date, and since then, they've spent an awful lot of time snogging on Nick's sofa whilst _Die Hard_ played, another afternoon in Nick's kitchen eating pizza and playing cards whilst mostly fully clothed because Nick had forgotten he'd booked the window cleaners to come round, and two evenings trying to co-ordinate their diaries via text so that they can arrange a time for them to take their clothes off at the same time, in the same place, with eleven-thirty on a Thursday morning being the only convenient time. 

"Are you sure, though?" Nick asks, as Louis falls over the bottoms of his too-long pyjamas as they go up the stairs. 

"Don't you want to see me naked?" Louis asks. "Because if you don't want to, I can always go back to sleep."

"Of course I want to see you naked, you idiot," Nick says. He doesn't smack Louis on the bum, which he's tempted to do as Louis takes him down the landing and into his bedroom. 

"Good," Louis says, and pulls off his t-shirt. He shoves down his pyjama bottoms as they get close to the bed, and a) no pants and b) Louis has the nicest bum Nick might ever have seen, all round and lovely. He's just _there_ and naked, right in front of him, and Nick's startlingly over dressed for the occasion. 

"Nice bum," Nick says, dropping his jacket on the floor and quickly following it with his t-shirt, his trainers, his socks, and his skinnies. He's half way towards pushing down his underwear when Louis stops him, hands to his wrists. 

"Thank you," Louis says. "I'm really quite proud of it. Stop that, I want to take your pants off."

"Fine, whatever," Nick says, making an affected attempt at rolling his eyes. He's getting an eyeful of Louis' dick instead. It's really quite lovely too, sort of small-to-medium sized and quite happy to see Nick, all things considered. Hard and pink and all of his pubic hair is neatly trimmed and a little bit shaved away, and that's a bit of a surprise because Louis doesn't seem like a manscaping sort of a man, and Nick's met a few. He's been to bed with more than a few. 

Nick hates the word _manscape_. 

"Nice penis."

"Thank you," Nick says. "I grew it myself."

Louis snorts at that, Nick's pants pushed half way down his thighs, and leans in, hiding his face in Nick's shoulder. "What are we doing?" he asks, and Nick has no fucking idea. None at all. 

"No idea," Nick says, and he pushes his pants the rest of the way down, stepping out of them so that he's naked in Louis' bedroom, and he can slide his hands back down to cup Louis' bum and walk him backwards into the bed. 

Louis laughs and cups Nick's face in his hands. "What am I doing with you?" he asks, tilting his chin up. 

"No fucking idea," Nick says. "Harry's going to laugh his arse off when he finds out."

"His arse isn't as good as mine," Louis points out. Nick's not going to argue with that. Not when he can lean in and touch his mouth to Louis', and have Louis kiss him back, breath sweet and sleepy and a little minty, like the only preparation he'd done for this whole thing was to brush his teeth at some point in the past few hours and then promptly go back to sleep. 

Nick pushes Louis down onto the bed and crawls over him, until his necklaces are bumping into Louis' chin. "I wanted my camera all day on the farm," he says. "Wanted to take a picture of you."

"Ask me nicely and I'll let you later on," Louis says, sliding his hands into Nick's hair. He pulls him down into a kiss, and Nick goes easily. It's so easy to kiss Louis. Louis is small and feisty and annoying and self-assured. It's glorious. _He's_ glorious. 

"Thank you," Nick says, quite seriously. Louis laughs against his mouth and Nick rolls them over so that Louis is on top, and Louis wriggles so that Nick's dick is trapped between his thighs and Louis' dick is pressed up against Nick's stomach. 

"How's that?"

"Charming," Nick says. "How are we going to do this?"

"I'm going to kiss you until you're begging to fuck me," Louis says, with a kind of sleepy satisfaction that Nick can't help but find delicious. 

"Begging, huh?"

"Begging," Louis says. He wriggles again, and Nick can't help but roll his hips up so that his dick is fucking up between Louis' thighs. "Stop that, we're still at the kissing stage. No fucking my thighs."

Nick makes a vaguely desperate kind of a noise that he's going to be ashamed of later, but only later. 

"Huh," Louis says. "Have you ever done that?"

"Not really," Nick says. "Seen it in porn, though."

"Have you?" Louis looks thoughtful. "I don't think I thought it was a thing. But—it's like, hot, right? Thigh fucking."

"I think so," Nick says, careful not to point out that right now, anything that involves his penis and Louis' penis and orgasms is high up his priority list. When Louis rolls his hips back so that Nick's dick is pushed up between his thighs again, and Louis squeezes his legs together, Nick tries not to let his eyes roll back in his head. That look really isn't sexy.

"Huh," Louis says. "Do you want to?" He puts on what Nick can only assume is his best impression of innocence, eyelashes fluttering. "It'll be my first time, baby. Be careful with me."

Nick slaps him on the thigh. "You're terrible." Louis laughs and leans in to kiss him again. "Have you got lube?"

Louis leans past him to get a bottle of Durex Play out of the bedside table. "It's cherry flavoured," he says. 

"Nice."

"I like cherries," Louis says, shrugging. Nick files that information away for later, and doesn't spend any time at all imagining Louis eating punnets of cherries and staining his lips a deep red. He shifts off Nick and onto the mattress next to him, concentrating on Nick's dick. He pokes it with a finger. "Did you know your cock leans to one side?"

"Yes," Nick says. "I had noticed."

"Huh," Louis says. "When you piss, does it lean to the left too?"

"Not usually," Nick says, through gritted teeth. 

"Oh," Louis says, and he leans in and takes the tip of Nick's dick in his mouth. It's unexpected and hot and Louis sucks on him like he's trying to get the last bit of milkshake out of the glass. It's not all that different to a hoover, except for the part where it's stupidly hot.

"Christ," Nick manages. 

"Yes?" Louis says, sitting back. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "Apparently if you drink a lot of coconut water it makes your jizz taste like coconut."

Nick's fridge contains twenty three cans of Diet Coke and twelve cartons of coconut water. He doesn't blush. 

"A- _ha_ ," Louis says. "Good thing I like coconut."

"You're the worst human in the world," Nick says, and Louis sits back on his heels then, bare-chested and with his hair falling into his eyes, his dick standing up proudly. He's smaller than Nick might have imagined, but Louis seems quite proud of himself. 

"If you fuck my thighs, will you suck me off afterwards?" Louis asks. 

"Think that could be arranged," Nick says, and he's sort of bewildered by how this has gone, because Louis is pumping lube out onto his palms and then coating the inside of his thighs with it, concentrating on it like it's completely normal, and then Nick has to put up with Louis squirting more out and wrapping his hand around Nick's dick. 

Nick is going to _die_. 

"There," Louis says proudly. He wipes his hand on his stomach. "All ready."

They pick the oddest angle to have sex in, Louis kneeling up on the bed and Nick behind him, dick bumping up against the back of his thighs. Nick can run his hands up Louis' chest and tilt his head back and meet his mouth in a kiss, all while Louis wraps a hand around his dick. 

"Stop wanking," Nick says, smacking his hand away. "Thought you wanted me to suck you off."

"Urgh," Louis says, kissing him again. "Bored of waiting. Fuck me, come on."

Nick pushes forward until his dick is sliding between Louis' lube-slick thighs. Louis squeezes his legs together and it's so tight and hot and dirty that Nick really doesn't quite know what to do with himself. When the head of his cock bumps up against Louis' balls, it catches him by surprise, and clearly it does Louis too, because he makes a startled, choked kind of a noise and bites Nick's lip. 

That just makes it hotter. 

Nick fucks in between his thighs, sliding one hand down to bat Louis' hand out of the way, and cup Louis' erection himself. 

"Touch me," Louis begs, but Nick's having none of that. He's blowing Louis after this and nothing is going to stand in his way. He kisses Louis' throat instead, down over his shoulder and back up to his jaw, Louis tipping his head back to give him better access. His skin is still sleep-warm and a little lazy, and Nick loves the way he tastes, the faded memory of yesterday's aftershave still there in the touch of Nick's mouth to his throat. 

Louis rocks back against him, whining out loud as Nick fucks him, crying out and pushing back every time Nick hits his balls. He's a wriggler, loud and obnoxious, and Nick can't get enough of him. 

When Nick comes, it's with barely any warning and a startled, choked-off cry, and Louis presses his thighs together, milking him dry as Nick tries to fuck up against him. He kisses him then, shifting their positions so that Louis is facing him, and they kiss over and over, both of them kneeling up in the centre of Louis' bed. Nick is trembling with it, but Louis wraps his hands around Nick's wrists and tugs him close, kissing him over and over. 

And afterwards, when Louis lies down in the middle of his bed, Nick crouches between his thighs and takes Louis' dick in his mouth, and Louis tangles his fingers in Nick's hair and holds him there. 

Louis is small enough that Nick doesn't choke on his dick, and he pulls out every trick in his repertoire to show Louis just how good he is. It leaves Louis a whimpering, begging mess, pulling on Nick's hair as Nick presses his tongue to the underside of Louis' dick, taking a break as he gets his breath back. 

Louis comes with a breathless whimper; it catches Nick by surprise. He swallows almost all of it, sitting back on his heels afterwards to wipe his mouth and clear his throat. 

"Christ," Louis says. 

Nick just laughs at that, licking at his thumb, and Louis tugs him in, kissing him again and again as Nick tumbles down onto the sheets next to him. For two people who don't like each other all that much, sex is remarkably, desperately easy. 

It's so easy they do it again. And again. And again.

~*~

_Now._

The speculation and the fall out lasts beyond the front pages of Friday's newspapers, and the airing of Scott's interview on the Friday afternoon. Tumblr and Twitter are full of people speculating about the secret identity of Louis' boyfriend, and virtually nobody has it right. They've been _too good_ , that's the thing, hiding in plain sight, never being seen in public together, and always going to the occasional friend's party by themselves, and leaving separately even if they're going back to the same place. 

Nick itches with the knowledge that he's the secret, that he's the one that everyone's talking about. He's loved the secret of their relationship, but he doesn't love this. He doesn't love the increasingly prevalent frown in between Louis' brows, and the way he wakes up in the middle of the night to Louis checking Twitter on his phone. It's turned out that the two of them are potentially the biggest saps in the world, because if they can't be together—which they _can't_ , whilst the world's media is combing through Louis' life with a fine toothcomb—then they can leave their Skype connection open overnight whilst they both sleep. Or in Louis' case, doesn't sleep.

It's sad, is the thing, and Nick is lonely and caught up in it, miserable and left out, and Nick hates that feeling. He hates it. This is why he'd never wanted Louis to have to go it alone, not once. They're in this together, him and Louis, and watching Louis have to deal with the endless speculation, and the millions of articles that have sprung up talking about Larry Stylinson again, even though Harry had answered _I'm single_ to Scott's question in the interview. They'd been _so careful_ with the structure of the question, and to the answer too, knowing that Louis had to be in a relationship whilst Harry explicitly wasn't, but even that isn't enough for the speculation to die down. 

"Stop looking at Twitter," Nick says sleepily, angling the laptop screen so that he can see Louis better. 

Louis looks tired and frustrated. "What do people get from being total fucking knobheads on Twitter?" He doesn't look like he's slept at all. "There's this one girl who's sent me the same message, like, a million times. It just says I'm a fag and God hates me."

Nick makes a face. "Pretty sure if God hates anyone, he's going to hate her more."

"Sliding scale, though," Louis says. 

"Stop looking," Nick says. "Seriously, put the phone away."

"I hate this," Louis says. "I hate this so much."

"I know," Nick says. "I'm sorry."

"Don't say _I told you so_ ," Louis says, drawing his knees up to his chest and pulling the duvet up and over himself. "I'd still rather be doing this by myself rather than having everyone slag you off and say you've turned me gay."

"They've said it before," Nick says as gently as he can manage. 

"Absolutely not the fucking point," Louis says. "People being terrible is not the fucking point."

"Sorry," Nick says again. 

"I'm just—" Louis stops. "I fucking miss you, all right? I miss you and I don't understand how me coming out makes it even harder for me to see you."

"One more week," Nick says softly. They're going to France together in a week, and they're going to release a picture of the two of them together to Twitter then. At least they can take advantage of France's privacy laws to try and control that first week together, out and in love. 

A week feels like a million years. 

"I can't wait a fucking week," Louis says. "I need you now. I hate this."

Nick lets out a ragged breath. "Lou—"

"Niall might let us use his place," Louis says. "No one is going to be following you to Niall's, right? And I'll already be there or something, I don't even know."

"We're not having sex in Niall's house," Nick says. 

"I know," Louis says. He looks exhausted and helpless, and Nick's seen his Twitter mentions and the articles on the _Daily Mail_ and the _Star_ and everywhere in between, so it's not like he's surprised. "I just—I miss you, all right? I need you. Just come and be in the same fucking place as me, just for a bit."

"All right," Nick says. "I love you, you know."

"I know," Louis says. "Love you too."

"Good," Nick says, and there's not much else to say when the person he's in love with is miserable and trapped in his house. He wishes he could help, but there's nothing he can do. He hates it. 

~*~

Nick gets to Niall's house at four-thirty the following afternoon, driving in with Harry. There are girls hanging out round the front, just like always, and Nick flinches even though he knows that Louis had got here so early this morning that the sun had barely come up, and the street had been empty. 

He's been texting Nick all day, trapped on Niall's sofa, and Nick's felt helpless and desperate and useless. It's a terrible feeling. 

"He's doing okay," Harry says. "I know he seems stressed out, but he's doing okay."

"I know," Nick says. "You ever think how unfair all of this is? He wouldn't be going through this shit if he was just telling the world he was going out with Cheryl Cole."

Harry just looks desperately sad. "I know," he says. "I'm sorry."

Everyone's sorry, but it doesn't make any of this any less frustrating. 

He finds Louis on the sofa in Niall's living room, mostly asleep, and rather than wake him up, he just inserts himself between Louis and the back of the sofa, wrapping his arm around Louis' waist. 

Louis wriggles so that he's comfortable, lacing his fingers with Nick's. 

Nick drops a kiss to the back of his neck. "Hiya, love," he says. 

"Hiya," Louis says. He's still half-asleep, eyes mostly closed. He doesn't wake up properly, just shuffling into a more comfortable position, Nick tangling his feet with Louis'. Louis hasn't properly slept all week. "Missed you."

"Missed you too." Nick kisses him again and stays just where he is. 

~*~

_Then._

"Have you got a weird text message from Harry?" Nick asks, when Louis' rolled over and buried his face sleepily in Nick's armpit.

"No idea," Louis says in a muffled voice. He pinches Nick's nipple. "Why aren't you still asleep?"

"Because I have an internal body clock that hates me," Nick says. "Check your phone, come on. I've got this weird message asking if I want to spend the afternoon and evening with him tomorrow."

"Do you think we should tell him we're sleeping together?" Louis asks, sleepily reaching past Nick for his phone on the bedside table and settling back in against Nick's side, feet tangled together. 

"Suppose." It's been two weeks and he and Louis have spent every single moment they can together. Nick isn't entirely sure he understands it either, but he's learning Louis' secrets, the way to take him apart piece by piece, the way he tastes when he comes, and how to put him back together afterwards. It's not been on purpose, this whole not-telling-Harry thing, but Harry keeps making hopeful tweets which Nick suspects are about love conquering all, and sending him texts about jam, so Nick's rather enjoying the spectacle. That, and there isn't actually all that much time left in the day when he's done taking Louis' clothes off and trying to persuade him not to put them back on. Like, he doesn't quite understand what's going on with him and Louis, but he's rather starting to think he might be falling for him. Hard. 

"He'll be so smug," Louis says, pressing closer as he unlocks his phone. "I've not got one from Harry, but I've got one from Niall. He wants to know if I fancy hanging out tomorrow." He shifts so he can kiss Nick's shoulder, showing him his phone. Louis really is terribly hot when he's just woken up. "This is going to be another weird date, isn't it?"

"Pretty definitely," Nick says. "Do you want to go?"

"I don't know how many more pickled onions I can eat, to be honest," Louis says, but he's laughing, rolling on top of Nick with an _oomph_ , kissing the corner of his mouth. "Let's tell them."

"About us?" Nick's heart is pounding. 

"No, about how we're sick of pickled onions," Louis grins, kissing him again. 

"About how we'll only get it together if he provides us with beetroot," Nick says, kissing him back. He's sleep-sweet and lovely. Nick drops his phone down onto the sheets and slides his hands down into the small of Louis' back instead, then further down to cup his bum. "Do you want to?"

Louis pulls away a little, suddenly serious. "Yeah," he says. "I do. If you do."

Nick lets out a breath, and nods. "Yeah. I do."

Louis laughs, and kisses him again, shoving their phones out of the way. He rolls his hips down against Nick's. "Sort me out," he says, and Nick squeezes his bum, and pulls him in for a kiss. 

~*~

Harry, Niall, Liam, and Zayn have laid on the whole of Alton Towers for Louis and Nick's date. _Alton Towers_. 

The drive up takes the best part of the afternoon, and Nick sits in the passenger seat of Harry's car, with Liam in the back seat, and texts Louis, who's with Niall and Zayn, who are also pretending they're not all driving in the same direction with the express intention of all meeting up. 

Alton Towers looms up later rather than sooner, and Nick watches with passing interest as all the cars seem to be going in the other direction. 

"Are you sure we're going the right way?" he asks, when nine million cars go past them and they're the only ones travelling towards the theme park. 

Harry looks at him and grins. "It's closed," he says. "Well, open to us. Closed to everyone else."

For a moment, Nick is desperately overawed. "What the fuck," he says, because sometimes he forgets just how famous his friends are. 

"Surprise," Harry says, as they pull in to park. They're met by park attendants, who are very polite and don't ask for Harry or Liam's autograph, or Nick's. Harry poses for pictures anyway, because he's that sort of desperately kind person that Nick wishes he was, and Liam talks to them all, and Nick sort of hangs around and makes conversation where he can. He's nervous, and he doesn't even really know why, because this isn't anything he can't cope with. It's Alton Towers, and Harry, and Louis. 

Well, it will be Louis, when he and Niall and Zayn finally arrive. That's clearly why everyone's hanging around looking hopeful, and they're not making much of a move past the main entrance, the whole park now empty apart from them and the staff. 

~*~

"This is terrible and I hate you all," Louis says loudly, as he arrives, half an hour later. He gives Nick the ghost of a wink, and then spends the next fifteen minutes being very nice and funny and smart to the park staff, whilst Niall charms everyone and Zayn conspires with Harry when he thinks Nick isn't looking. Louis wins all the park staff over, and leaves voicemails for family members, and takes a million pictures. The others do too, but Nick's attention is on Louis, and Louis alone. 

It makes Nick's stomach flip over, not that he's about to admit that at any point soon. 

"We should start with Nemesis," Louis says afterwards, when they're finally heading into the park and away from the impromptu meet and greet. "For, like, old time's sake."

"I hate Nemesis," Nicks says. "I came off last time and fell over. Couldn't feel my legs."

"Excellent," Louis says. "Let's go on that first."

When he stalks on by, his hand brushes Nick's thigh, just for a moment. 

Nick tries not to blush. 

~*~

It's so weird, being in the park by themselves. They have a couple of golf buggies that the park staff are driving them about in, and whatever ride they want to go on, the park staff set it up for them. 

It's amazing and ridiculous, and Nick can tell Louis is having the time of his life, refusing to ride on the same buggy as Nick, picking all the rides that Nick pretends he hates. Harry is looking increasingly downhearted, and Nick would hate that, except for the fact that he has had to sit through multiple, condiment-filled, awkward dinners by now, and he's even eaten piccalilli, so Harry can have another half hour before he's allowed to feel smug about knowing best. 

"Time for the log flume, mates," Niall says finally, when they've been on the Runaway Mine Train and Oblivion and Thirteen. 

"Oh, no," Liam says, after they've traipsed up to the start and the park staff, Lona and Marcus, have got the ride all set up. "There's only four to a boat."

"Oh, no," Harry says. "That's Liam, me, Niall, and Zayn in one boat, and you two will have to go by yourselves."

"Oh, no," Zayn says. Nick sees him roll his eyes. Nick likes Zayn. He's a good egg. 

"Oh, no," Niall says. "Us four are going first. See you at the bottom, losers."

Louis makes a very loud, very exaggerated sigh, and folds his arms. He waits until the rest of his band have chugged away in their flume boat and are out of sight, before leaning in and bumping his hip into Nick's. "Hi, you."

"Hi, yourself," Nick says. He taps his fingertips against Louis' arm. "You about ready to tell them?"

Louis laughs. "I hate Harry's sad face too. It's rubbish. All right, let's lead them on a bit after this and then tell them."

"Deal," Nick says, as they climb into their little boat, Nick getting in first and Louis clambering in in front of him. It's almost acceptable for him to slide his hand around Louis' waist and rest on his stomach as they start to move; Louis tangles his fingers into Nick's, out of the view of the park staff. "Do you want to come back to mine tonight?"

"Absolutely," Louis says. "Can I fuck you?"

Nick blinks. "Um," he says. "I think that can be arranged."

"Awesome," Louis says, and then the ride happens and they both end up completely and utterly soaked from head to foot. 

~*~

"That was all your fault," Nick snaps, as they stumble damply out of the bottom of The Flume. "If you hadn't rocked the boat—"

"If you hadn't been such a ginormous fucking idiot," Louis hisses, folding his arms. Liam and Niall and Harry and Zayn generally look a bit damp all over, but Louis and Nick are _soaked_. Nick's privately quite certain he's had drier showers. He really, really doesn't know how it happened, but his Converse are _squelching_. They'd meant to get a bit wet so they could be grumpy with each other, but this was way, way beyond that.

"Um," Harry says. "Did you fall in?"

"No," Louis says grumpily. His shirt is sticking to him. Damply. Nick has a feeling or two in response to that, but he has them quietly. 

"Well, a bit," Nick says, dragging his attention back to the matter in hand, and not Louis' wet t-shirt, "but it was all his fault. He's an idiot."

Harry's face falls. "I thought you two might start to get along," he says. "I don't know why you don't."

"Because he's terrible," Louis says, quietly enough that Lona and Marcus can't hear them. He waits until they go back round the corner to close down the ride. "He's really terrible, and I don't know why you're friends with him."

"Louis—" Liam says, in horror. 

"And he's not much better," Nick chimes in. "How come the four of you haven't drowned him by now?"

"He's not normally this annoying," Niall says. "Sorry, Lou, but you are being a bit of an arse."

"I just wanted you to be friends," Harry says sadly. 

"No, you didn't," Louis says. He reaches for Nick's hand. "You wanted us to fall madly in love and jog in slow motion down beautiful beaches at sunrise."

Nick laces his fingers with Louis'. 

"Um," Harry says. 

"I don't really jog," Nick says. "And you get sand everywhere on a beach, I don't know really know if I'm up for that."

"Holy shit," Zayn says. "Are you—"

"They're holding hands," Liam says. "Why are you holding hands?"

Louis glances at Nick. He's blushing, which is sort of charming, if Nick's going to let himself think such things about Louis Tomlinson. Let's face it, he is, and a lot more besides. 

Nick bites his lip. They probably only have a minute before Lona and Marcus come back from shutting down the ride. He leans in and kisses Louis' hot cheek. "Surprise?"

"Are you shitting us?" Niall asks, smile wide. 

They have to stop holding hands because Marcus is coming back, but Nick shakes his head. 

"When did this happen?" Harry looks bewildered and delighted. It's endearing. 

"Um," Louis says. "The farm?"

"That was weeks ago, you terrible excuses for humans," Harry says, and then he pulls them both into a hug. "I knew I was right."

"I told you," Louis says in a muffled voice, pressed up against Harry's sweatshirt. "He's going to be insufferable."

"I am," Harry says, and he laughs as hugs them again, and Liam and Niall and Zayn pile on too, because Louis' band is a giant bag of puppies, Nick's sure. "I really, really am."

~*~

_Now._

"Ready?" Matt asks, just as the song's coming to an end, and it's almost time for their carefully planned link. 

"As I'll ever be," Nick says. He texts Louis, _are you listening??_ but he knows the chances are, Louis will be asleep and will have to listen again later. It isn't even seven AM. 

Louis' reply comes straight back. _Course I am. Love you xx_

Honestly, Nick has no idea what to do with him. 

"So, that was Lorde with Tennis Court, and, what, it's been ten minutes since we last played that. What was the world like before we had Lorde? I can't even remember. I love her. Well, we've got a caller on the line. What's her name, Finchy? Tez? Right, hello, hello, hello, Tez. What are you up to this morning?"

Tez laughs. "Hiya," she says. "I'm dead excited today because I'm about to go on my holidays."

"Oh, brilliant," Nick says. "I'm off on mine on Friday. I can't wait. Where are you off to?"

"Majorca," Tez says. "We're on our way to Heathrow now."

"Who's we?" Nick asks. 

"Well, it's me and my mum in the car now," Tez says. Her mum calls _hello_ in the background. "But I'm meeting my boyfriend at the airport. It's our first holiday together."

"Ah, nerve-wracking," Nick says. "It's my first holiday with my boyfriend next week, too. I'm proper nervous."

Matt gives him two thumbs up. Fiona does a little dance at the other side of the desk. Nick rolls his eyes. He knows he's gone bright red. 

"Don't be nervous," Tez says. "It's a holiday, isn't it? A week of sun and sea and flopping about on the beach."

"I like a bit of flopping," Nick agrees. "Have you done that thing that I've been doing all week? I've got all these clothes in my wardrobe, and he's seen pretty much all of them by now, and it's, like, imperative that I only pack things he's never seen before. I'm buying a whole new wardrobe."

Tez laughs. "I've bought out Primark."

"A strong choice," Nick agrees. "Any advice from the team on how to deal with the first holiday away with the boyfriend, then? Me and Tez desperately need to know."

"Well," Matt says. "Being with someone twenty four seven is hard work."

"Yeah," Fiona says, "and your boyfriend's dead messy, isn't he, Nick? And you like to clean up. So, like, maybe don't clean up after him all the time just because you're on holiday."

"Excellent advice from Fiona, there." He blows her a kiss. "How about you, Tez? Any annoying habits your boyfriend has?"

"He sleeps really late and is impossible to wake up," she says. "But I've downloaded this super alarm for my phone, and I'm going to put it right by his head every morning. We're not missing the day just because he wants to sleep."

Nick snorts a laugh. "Brilliant," he says. "He's going to love that. Well, have the best time on holiday, Tez. Flop about on that beach and think about us working hard whilst you're gone."

"Will do," Tez says. 

"Bye, bye, bye," Nick says, and then he starts the new Lily Allen song and makes sure the microphones are off before taking off his headphones. "Well?"

Fiona just laughs. "Operation Coming Out is a go-go."

Nick rolls his eyes. His phone buzzes against his leg. It's a message from Louis: _you called me messy on national radio see if I blow you when I next see you now_. 

_SOON_ , Nick texts back. _SOON._

_Can't wait. xx_

~*~

"Which do you fancy?" Nick asks, holding up two bottles of aftershave in Duty Free. "Which is going to make me smell most like a glorious scented beast?"

Louis narrows his eyes. "I'm not being funny, but did you get any sleep at all last night? And shouldn't you be, like, sniffing them instead of just buying them because the bottles look good?"

"Not much," Nick says. He'd been up most of the night packing and picking the perfect travelling outfit, and then he'd had to go in and do the show. Coming on holiday with his boyfriend and his family is a big fucking deal. That, and he hasn't seen Louis since before he came out, excepting the afternoon at Niall's; he's itching to drag him into a room and kiss him until they're both breathless and naked.

There's no fucking way they're doing that in a house they're sharing with Louis' whole family, but they're not arriving until the morning, which gives them a whole night alone. Thank fucking fuck. They haven't even been able to hug each other hello. They'd arrived at the airport separately and weren't supposed to see each other until they called their flight. Plan was, they were supposed to release a selfie of the two of them together when they were in France together. Bumping into each other in Duty Free is a terrible kind of accident, the kind where Nick is going to end up buying piles of shit just so that he's got something to do with his hands that isn't touching Louis. 

Nick is desperate to touch him. He doesn't know what to do with himself. He puts both bottles of aftershave down and carelessly fingers a giant Toblerone. 

"Oh my god, I love you," a girl says, and Nick looks up to find a teenage girl accosting Louis by the aftershave. "You're my favourite."

"Thanks," Louis says. He smiles at her, but it looks a bit tight at the edges. 

"My sister's bisexual too," she says. "When she told my mum she had a girlfriend, my mum cried. Yours didn't, did she?"

"No," Louis says. "She was great. Your sister's okay, isn't she?"

"Yeah," she says. "It took her, like, a year to bring her girlfriend home again, though."

"And your mum?"

"She's better," the girl says. "She won't tell granny and granddad about Claire, though."

For a moment, Louis looks desperately sad. Nick puts the Toblerone back down on the shelf. "I'm sorry."

"Claire was really happy you came out," the girl says. She can't be older than about thirteen or fourteen. "Mum shut the newspaper and put it down the side of the sofa, but I saw her getting it out again after _Eastenders_. She read it when my dad wasn't looking. Claire says nobody's ever bisexual."

"I am," Louis says. This corner of the duty free is quiet, but Nick can see people start to pay attention. 

"I know," the girl says. "I'm Sarah. Can I have a picture?"

Louis nods. "'Course," he says. He glances across at Nick over the top of the shelves. Sarah hasn't noticed Nick. "Do you want one of me and my boyfriend, too?"

Sarah's head shoots up. "Your boyfriend?" 

"Yeah," Louis says, and Nick's heart is pounding. He puts his basket down on the floor. 

"No one knows who your boyfriend is," Sarah says. "Everyone's talking about it on Tumblr."

"You can know," Louis says, and he doesn't look at Nick. "You can do what you want with the picture, too. Put it up on Twitter or Tumblr or whatever you want."

Sarah looks doubtful. "Everyone would know. People would retweet it."

"I know," Louis says. "I'd retweet it too."

 _Christ_. This is really happening. 

"You don't know my Twitter," Sarah says. 

"You can tell me it," Louis says, and he's looking over Sarah's shoulder now, at Nick standing at the end of the aisle. "If you want to."

"Please," Sarah says, and Louis holds his hand out then, for Nick to take, and Nick comes over and wraps an arm around Louis' shoulders and presses his mouth to Louis' temple. 

"I love you," Louis whispers, and Sarah can hear but Nick can't bring himself to care. This is it, this is the moment, and his heart is ready to beat right out of his chest. 

"Right back at you," Nick says, and Sarah takes the picture, and another one, and then they take one with just her and Louis, and then she asks for one with Louis and Nick, so they take one of those too, hidden away in the back of Duty Free in the corner of Heathrow. 

She tweets the one of Nick and Louis, and Louis retweets her, and Nick retweets him, and then it's out there, in the world, and Sarah's parents are looking for her. 

"Thanks," she says, bright-cheeked. 

"I hope she's turned notifications off on her phone," Nick says, once she's gone. He's holding Louis' hand, in public, and the world isn't ending. His palm's sweating, but the world isn't ending. 

"Yeah," Louis says. 

They don't buy anything in Duty Free, but they don't stop holding hands. They walk through the airport together, hand in hand, back towards the First Class Lounge. People are taking pictures of them as they walk, but Nick can't bring himself to care. 

"I missed you," he says, words a bit thick. It's all too much, that's all. 

Louis stops them then, right where they are. "Missed you more," he says, and goes up on his toes to kiss him, right there where they're standing, in public, out and together. 

~*~

The leaflet says, _zoo pour les enfants_. 

"It's got goats, look," Daisy says, looking at the pictures inside. "I think you can feed them. Can we go?"

"No," Louis says, one hand firmly in Nick's. He steals the leaflet with his other hand, dropping it neatly in the bin. "No, no, no. Let's go anywhere in the world but there."

[End]

**Author's Note:**

> True story: I was once at a cliff-top not-so-urban farm with my nieces when they were small, and we were holding our hands out with feed for the baby goats, and one of the goats decided to eat the hair right out of my niece's head instead of the boring grain off her outstretched hand. So. Yes.


End file.
